


In Which Cimorene's Sister Comes to Call

by AlexElizabeth



Category: Enchanted Forest Chronicles - Patricia Wrede
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 07:51:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2805047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexElizabeth/pseuds/AlexElizabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cimorene's sister has a favor to ask of Mendanbar. Cimorene is not amused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Cimorene's Sister Comes to Call

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sumeria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumeria/gifts).



“Mendanbar,” said Cimorene.

“Mmmmph,” said Mendanbar.

“Mendanbar,” said Cimorene, more loudly. “Why is Willin in our bedroom?”

“Willin isn’t in our bedroom,” Mendanbar said. He kept his eyes very tightly shut and pulled the blankets up to his chin.

“Yes, he is,” Cimorene insisted.

Willin coughed.

“Oh.” Mendanbar opened his eyes. “Oh, I see.” He pushed back the blankets and swung his feet to the floor. “Willin, why are you in our bedroom?”

Willin coughed again. His face was bright red and he looked miserable. “I did knock, Your Majesty. In fact, I knocked several times. But there was no answer -- ”

“We were up rather late last night,” Cimorene put in helpfully.

Willin’s face flushed even darker red, and Cimorene added hastily, “We were in Mendanbar’s _study_ examining a particularly interesting enchanted footstool that Telemain brought in for us to see yesterday. It hops around whenever you try to put your feet up on it. You don’t need to look so mortified, Willin. We weren’t doing anything unmentionable. We just got to bed late.”

“Yes,” said Mendanbar. “Although after we got to bed -- ”

Cimorene elbowed him and he broke off with a cough.

“If Your Majesties would attend for just a moment,” Willin said loudly, sounding rather desperate, “there is something I thought you ought to know rather urgently.”

“All right, Willin, we’re listening.” Mendanbar fixed his eyes on the steward’s face and waited with polite expectancy.

Having gained the full attention of the King and Queen of the Enchanted Forest, Willin cleared his throat once more and said in a rush, “All the way from the Kingdom of the Western Sea, with no warning -- most improper, when we could have arranged it all so nicely if only she had sent word -- ”

“Willin,” Cimorene interrupted. “Did you say the Kingdom of the Western Sea?”

“Yes,” the steward said, sounding even more flustered. “And as I said, if anyone had warned me, we could have arranged it, just as we did when she came for your wedding -- ”

“Willin,” Mendanbar interrupted. He sounded apprehensive. “Willin, when _who_ came for the wedding?”

“Her Majesty’s youngest sister, of course.” Willin sounded surprised. “She’s downstairs. She just came all the way from the Kingdom of the Western Sea. She says she would be very grateful to see you as soon as possible. If anyone had told me -- ”

But he was interrupted once more.

“Oh, dear,” said Cimorene. “Oh, _dear_.”

Mendanbar put his head in his hands and groaned.

* * *

“It’s not that I mind my sisters,” Cimorene said to Mendanbar ten minutes later as they descended the four flights of curving staircase that connected the Royal Bedchamber to the Great Hall. “They’re all right as long as they stay with their husbands and children in their own kingdoms. But Geraldina and I don’t ever seem to have anything to talk about, and you and I were having such a nice time with just the two of us here.”

“It has been nice,” Mendanbar agreed. “We’ve been married how long? Four months?”

“Four months next week,” Cimorene said. “Which means Geraldina was just here along with all my family. Really, I don’t see why she didn’t send a letter ahead of time.”

“But I did,” said a silvery voice that floated up the final flight of stairs to them. “I certainly did send a letter. Perhaps it was waylaid? The carrier pigeons in our kingdom have never been of the first quality, but they usually go where they’re told to go.”

“Carrier pigeons?” said Mendanbar as they rounded the turn and came face-to-face with Cimorene’s sister. “Well, that would explain it. Some animals have a very difficult time in the Enchanted Forest. Your poor pigeon has most likely grown an extra pair of wings or begun trying to swim like a duck or something and got distracted before it could deliver its letter. Don’t worry,” he added cheerfully. “I expect it will sort itself out. Animals don’t generally come to _harm_ in the Enchanted Forest; some of them just get turned around for a while.”

“Well, that sets my mind at rest,” Geraldina said. “I sent the letter with Janie, my favorite pigeon -- really more of a family pet than anything else -- but if you think she came to no harm then I expect she’ll make her way home.” She seemed to put this problem out of her mind and turned her attention to her sister, looking her up and down. “I must say, Cimorene, marriage suits you very well. Are you pregnant?” she asked hopefully.

Cimorene frowned. “No,” she said. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

Mendanbar said quickly, “May we offer you some tea?” 

He reached out a hand, ready to flick one of the strands of the magic of the Enchanted Forest, but before he could act Willin appeared at his elbow, his expression deeply offended. “Your Majesty does not need to produce the tea Yourself,” he said in tones of mortification. “I have ordered tea to be served in the second drawing room, if you will follow me.”

Geraldina was pleased to follow Willin. Cimorene, still looking mulish, and Mendanbar, slightly apprehensive, followed behind.

Once they were seated at the tea table, Cimorene forced a smile and said, “Ah, Geraldina, what brings you here?”

Her sister lifted a pair of dewy blue eyes and said to her sister, “I need your help. I crave a boon from your husband.”

Mendanbar choked on his tea. Cimorene, reaching over to thump him on the back, resumed her mulish expression. “What sort of boon?” she asked.

Geraldina wafted a faint sigh and said, “My witch has found me.”

“What witch?” Cimorene demanded.

Geraldina’s eyes filled with tears. “ _My_ witch,” she repeated reproachfully. Seeing Cimorene’s blank expression, she added more briskly, “The one who cursed me on my sixteenth birthday. She came to find me and mete her vengeance.”

“Oh, _that_ witch.” Cimorene selected a sandwich from the tray on the table and added, “I never thought there was much in that.”

“How can you say that?” Geraldina cried. Turning to Mendanbar, she said, “The witch came to my sixteenth birthday party and said that, because of her envy of my good fortune -- ”

“Everyone felt Geraldina had very good fortune because a young, handsome king, rather than a prince, was courting her that year,” Cimorene interjected for Mendanbar’s benefit.

“Yes, that was the year Allandan proposed, and the witch envied me for it and cursed me. She said that seven years from thence my fortunes would fail and I would be obliged to go on a quest to restore them. And last week, _she returned_.” Geraldina’s voice dropped to a throbbing whisper. 

Cimorene, pouring herself a second cup of tea, said with interest, “What sort of quest did she send you on? Quests can be quite fascinating.”

“Fascinating, yes,” Meddanbar said somewhat dryly, “but also complicated and full of unexpected turns of events.”

“Well, mine isn’t very interesting _or_ full of anything unexpected,” Geraldina said. She reached into the bosom of her dress and pulled out a small scroll. “I planned it all out before I left the Kingdom of the Western Sea. Here is my quest itinerary.”

Cimorene clattered her cup back into the saucer. “Your _what_?”

“My itinerary,” Geraldina repeated. “You didn’t think I would set out without a plan, did you?”

Cimorene was regarding her sister with a strange expression. “I may have to give you credit for more practicality than I realized,” she said. “May I inquire how your quest is going so far?”

“Well, I’m _mostly_ on schedule,” Geraldina said, running her finger down the parchment. “The task my witch gave me was to triumph over an ugly creature, a dangerous creature, and an unobtainable creature. She said if I could accomplish these three tasks before my twenty-third birthday, I would be free of her forever more.”

Cimorene frowned. “That’s a bit vague. How do you know she’s going to honor her part of the bargain if the terms aren’t more specific?”

“Oh, she’ll honor her side,” Geraldina said calmly. “To tell you the truth, I don’t think she’s very intelligent or very committed. She showed up because she had said she would, but she didn’t seem that enthusiastic. She’s a bit old, I think, with rheumatism, and would probably rather stay at home next to her fire than run around cursing princesses as she did when she was younger. Still, curses shouldn’t really be left hanging, so I daresay it’s just as well she showed up again. Once she had told me her terms, we brought in our three court magicians as well as the chief priest and the head of the National Godmothers’ Association to all verify our pact. Our handshake was consecrated with holy water, pixie dust, and essence of dragon scale, so I think we’ve covered our bases there. The terms are that I fulfill the quest as I understand the tasks, and if I’ve faithfully accomplished my side of it, then she’ll leave me alone. And I do wish she _would_ ,” she added with sudden heat. “I’m very busy, what with the twins born last year and our treaty with the Kingdom of the Southern Sea and Allandan’s silver jubilee coming up next year, and I’ve simply got no _time_ for quests. So I sat down and made a plan before I left that would get me done within a week.”

“Well,” Cimorene said, “you do seem to have this under control. Which tasks have you accomplished and which do you have left?”

“I’ve done two and I’m down to just the last one. I set out from the north of our kingdom and went to the Swamp of the Trolls that borders our lands. Usually, of course, one avoids trolls, but we had a little interchange with them last year when Allandan was able to help them with a flooding problem that was really seriously threatening their boglands. Ever since then they’ve been tolerably responsive to our overtures, so I thought I would just go and see if the King of the Trolls would do me one little, tiny favor.” Geraldina smiled, showing small, white, even teeth. “And he did. To triumph over him, I asked him to agree to a provisional peace treaty with our kingdom. Nothing binding beyond a year, just to see if it suited both sides. He said he was already considering it, but since I was there in person, he said he might as well agree to it. Allandan will be pleased, so that’s two birds with one stone,” she concluded cheerfully.

“I’m impressed,” Cimorene admitted. “But which one does the troll king count as -- the ugly or the dangerous creature? Trolls, in my experience, can be both.”

“If I were you,” put in Mendanbar, “I would consider arguing that he counts for both tasks.”

“I could do that,” Geraldina said, “and I did seriously consider it, but I’m not quite sure it would go over, and I do want to just do this and get it _done_ , so I thought I would count him as the ugly creature and go on to the Mountains of Morning for the dangerous one.”

Cimorene’s expression darkened once more. “You went to the Mountains of Morning to find a dangerous creature?” she repeated carefully. “Do you mean -- ”

“Yes, I went to find a dragon,” Geraldina said happily.

“To be fair,” Mendanbar murmured, “you don’t have exclusive rights to them, Cimorene, even though you were the princess of the King of the Dragons.”

“Of course I don’t have exclusive rights,” Cimorene said crossly, “but you had asked me, Geraldina, I could have helped you.”

“Well, I did mention it in my letter,” her sister replied, “but I also thought it would be faster just to go myself rather than arrange an envoy or anything like that.”

Cimorene laughed despite herself and leaned back in her chair. “Well, you seem to have survived your encounter. Which dragon did you meet?”

“A very cross, very large one named Moranz. I used an enchanted ring to transport myself from the Swamp of the Trolls to the Mountains of Morning. It was supposed to deposit me in a nice meadow, but instead I ended up on a little ledge just outside the entrance of a cave. I’ll have to speak with the court magician who enchanted the ring for me,” she added as an aside. “It seems to me it was really very shoddy work. It all ended well, though, so perhaps it was for the best. The thing was, just as I was landing, Moranz was coming out of his cave. I think he was more surprised than annoyed to see me, but he did let out quite a lot of fire. Luckily, I was able to get behind some rocks and only my dress got a bit singed, but I think that counts as dangerous. He calmed down once I explained who I was and what I wanted, and we agreed that almost getting doused by dragon fire counted as danger, and I asked if he could offer me a bit of lunch. I do think that sharing a meal with a dragon after nearly getting burned to death counts as a triumph, so I think I’ve completed that part of the quest. Moranz was very civil once I mentioned that I was related to you, Cimorene. He even let me stay overnight in his cave and then he pointed me in the direction of the Enchanted Forest this morning. And now I’m here.” She smiled at her host and hostess. “If I can accomplish my final task today, then I’ll have finished in just three days, and I do think that’s nicely on schedule. I’m eager to be home, you know. The twins will be missing me, not to mention Allandan.”

“You said you craved a boon,” Mendanbar said. “If I can help you with something inside the Enchanted Forest, I would be glad to do so. What sort of creature have you selected for the unobtainable one?”

“Oh,” Geraldina said, “that would be you.”

Mendanbar looked taken aback, while Cimorene’s expression went from mulish to outraged.

“Perhaps if you explained what you had in mind -- ” Mendanbar began cautiously.

Geraldina looked from one face to the other and said, “Well, _really_ , Cimorene, you needn’t look like that. I’m not proposing anything untoward.”

“No,” Cimorene said, unclenching her teeth, “I suppose you’re not. Do forgive my reaction.”

“Well, I suppose it’s not surprising,” Geraldina conceded. “Although why you should be worried I have no idea. I must say, you were always a little touchy, Cimorene. And you have no reason to be, because even though you ran around and studied Latin and cooking and fencing when we were children and even though you turned down all the princes who offered for you, it all turned out quite as well for you as for any of the rest of us, didn’t it? I mean, you didn’t even get cursed on your sixteenth birthday, and you ended up marrying a nice, handsome, young king, just as I did.” She bestowed a brilliant smile on both of them.

This speech did not seem to have pacified Cimorene very much, but before she could speak, Mendanbar said quickly, “Perhaps you could tell us what you had in mind, Geraldina.”

Geraldina shrugged one shapely shoulder. “Just a kiss. On the cheek,” she added hastily, with a glance at her sister. “I think the witch will allow that I’ve triumphed over an unobtainable creature if I get a kiss from my sister’s husband. A kiss on the cheek, and then I’ll be off back to my own husband and my twins.” She turned her lovely, cornflower-blue eyes to Cimorene. “Surely you won’t mind that, will you?”

Cimorene sighed. “Very well. Go on and kiss her, Mendanbar.”

Not looking very happy about it, Mendanbar leaned over the tea table and bestowed a quick peck on the satin-smooth cheek of his sister-in-law.

“Thank you,” Geraldina said, rising to her feet and brushing crumbs from her lap. “And thank you for the tea. Now I’ll leave you two alone. Perhaps we’ll see each other again at midwinter? You _must_ come visit for our festival; it really is lovely.”

“We’ll think about it,” Mendanbar promised.

“And once you have a baby, Cimorene, we’ll certainly be here for the christening,” Geraldina babbled on. She gave a tinkling laugh. “Let’s hope there are no more curses in the family for a while, though. I admit this one was not very much trouble to get rid of, but we don’t need anyone sleeping a hundred years or getting locked up in their castles for a good long time.”

“We don’t anticipate anything of that sort,” Mendanbar said, smiling. “It was very nice to see you, Geraldina. The front door is through this way.”

Geraldina turned in the direction he pointed, busy with rolling up her scroll and pulling on her gloves at the same time. Not looking where she was going, she tripped over a footstool. Mendanbar reached out politely to catch her elbow but was distracted as the footstool rose from the ground and flung itself at Geraldina’s head. He ducked, pulling Geraldina down with him, and Cimorene launched herself at the footstool. She grabbed one of its legs, only to find the leg shrinking in her hand. By the time Mendanbar had recovered himself and assisted Geraldina to stand up, Cimorene had her hands wrapped around a rapidly shrinking and morphing footstool. As the three of them watched, two of the wooden legs split into claws and the other two grew feathers. The cushion on the top rumpled and grew a beak. Within a minute, a homing pigeon was flapping its wings in Cimorene’s arms.

“Janie!” Geraldina cried. “Well, I _am_ glad to see her again.” She reached out, took the pigeon from Cimorene, and settled it in the crook of her elbow, where it ruffled its feathers and cooed.

“Mendanbar,” Cimorene said, “where exactly did Telemain say he found that footstool?”

“I forgot to ask,” Mendanbar said. “Knowing Telemain, he could have found it under a tree and forgotten to mention the fact because he was so interested in its magical properties. How a pigeon became a footstool I cannot imagine, but I’m glad she’s been reunited with her proper owner.”

“Yes, but how did the footstool get from your study to the second drawing room?” Cimorene inquired.

“That would be Willin, I expect,” Mendanbar said. He glanced over as his steward entered the room. “Have you been doing some housekeeping, Willin? Or perhaps the footstool walked by itself out of my study. I wouldn’t have put that past its capabilities.”

“I may have moved it,” Willin said with dignity. “I felt that it complemented the drapes in this room. I hope Your Majesty is not upset.”

“Not in the least,” Mendanbar said cheerfully. “If you would escort Queen Geraldina and her pigeon Janie out, Willin?”

“Goodbye,” Geraldina said. “Thank you very much, both of you, and do remember to let me know if you want to come for midwinter.”

“We will,” Cimorene said. “It was nice to see you, Geraldina. Have a good trip home.” She sighed as the door closed behind her sister and the elf. “Mendanbar, we’re not really going to think about visiting her, are we?”

“Not unless you want to.” Glancing at her face, he added, “No, we’re _not_ going to. We’ll stay right here and forget that your sister exists.”

“It’s not that I mind her,” Cimorene said, “but I much prefer her to stay in her kingdom, and I’ll stay in mine. I’m glad to do anyone a favor, but I do draw the line at people soliciting kisses from my husband.”

Mendanbar laughed. “It is does seem better all around to solicit kisses from one’s own husband.”

“Yes.” She pulled him close. “For example -- ”

* * *

Willin, returning to the second drawing room to collect the tea tray, found the King and Queen of the Enchanted Forest quite oblivious to the world around them. Retreating as quietly as he could, he closed the door behind him and left Cimorene and Mendanbar to deal with each other as they saw fit.


End file.
